Media
Someone I love and respect called me out recently.
We were talking about Andrew Cuomo, and she was surprised I didn’t know the full story behind the sexual harassment allegations. Then she asked if it was because, as a man, I didn’t care as much about these things.
That landed harder than I expected.
I pushed back - “It’s not that I don’t care; I’ve just stopped caring about the news in general.” But her question didn’t leave me.
It made me wonder: When did I start tuning out? And why?
What I Knew
- I knew who Andrew Cuomo was.
- I knew he was accused of sexual harassment.
- I didn’t know the full extent of the allegations - or what ended up being proven.
- And it’s not like I’ve stopped caring about civic life entirely; I’d been researching NYC mayoral candidates.
Still, I hadn’t done the work to understand the Cuomo story.
That part was true.
When the news lost me
Over the last couple of years, I started distrusting the media - even the “good” outlets.
As a founder, I’ve seen how stories are framed, how numbers are bent, how headlines are engineered for attention or agenda. It’s strange to realize the thing you relied on for truth is also playing a game - sometimes subtly, sometimes not.
I used to believe reputable outlets were the antidote to legacy bias. But bias isn’t even the thing that bothers me anymore. It’s the hidden motives - the performative objectivity, the quiet shaping of narrative.
And the more one is conscious of one’s political bias, the more chance one has of acting politically without sacrificing one’s aesthetic and intellectual integrity. -- George Orwell
These days, the integrity part feels optional
I still am a fan of journalism
And that’s the painful part.
I love good journalism - the kind that cuts through noise with clarity, the kind that sits with complexity instead of rushing to package it.
One of my favorite shows is The Newsroom (side note: its Aaron Sorkin's finest work, along with The West Wing). It’s idealistic to the point of cringe sometimes, but it champions a version of journalism I still want to believe in.
A shift toward the long-form
Lately, I’ve found myself drifting toward long-form writing - the kind where bad arguments can’t hide behind clever phrasing.
I recently read B.R. Ambedkar’s Annihilation of Caste. It’s one of the most powerful essays I’ve read: unapologetically biased, but rooted in conviction. You can disagree, but you can’t dismiss it. It demands engagement.
So why don’t I read more work like that?
- It’s hard to find.
- It lags behind breaking news.
- My attention span is...not what it used to be.
- And honestly, I’m scared of forming opinions that are half-baked.
Somewhere along the way, I think I outsourced my sense-making to headlines - and when that trust eroded, the whole scaffolding collapsed.
Questions I’m sitting with
- Have I lost the muscle for forming strong opinions because I’m afraid of not knowing enough?
- Have I used media skepticism as a polite excuse for disengagement?
I don’t have answers yet.
But I’m glad I got called out.
Sometimes belonging to “the informed” becomes a performance. Sometimes tuning out becomes a performance too.